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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29090667">Never is forever</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshWondaland/pseuds/CheshWondaland'>CheshWondaland</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcoholic Jessica Jones, F/M, Kissing, Legit just made this because I had other ideas, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Walk Into A Bar, risky sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:07:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,965</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29090667</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshWondaland/pseuds/CheshWondaland</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A lawyer walks into a bar...<br/>"No, never."<br/>She would never admit it.<br/>It wasn't a regret.<br/>It would never be a regret.<br/></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jessica Jones/Matt Murdock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Never is forever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first smut fic, I only slightly regret it. This is really embarrassing to put out and I've been sitting on it for months. Just... enjoy? Yeah, enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     It started with a drink, it always started that way with Jessica. Always the same burn trickling down her throat. Always the same shitty lays. But this one was probably the best she ever had, the only one that meant something. The only one seared into her senses. </p><p>     He was on the tall side of average height-wise, a neat stubble to his jaw, a nose that had been broken at least thrice. The curious detail about the man was the red lenses he wore. He was blind, she had asked about why he wore the glasses inside and got the answer in a snap. She was surprised and he had the most heartbroken look on his face until she told him it didn’t matter. She kissed his cheek lightly before lifting off his glasses and kissing his brow. They’d been in his kitchen getting a snack when she’d done that. </p><p>     Yet, in that bar, she ignored him as he walked in, just like she ignored everyone who wasn’t named Trish Walker, the sister who wouldn't speak with her.  She couldn’t ignore him anymore when he sat next to her at the bar and ordered her a drink. </p><p>     “What do you need?” He craned his head and smirked. It wasn’t supposed to make her feel tingly but it did, and it rarely happened to her around guys who weren’t scumbags. She had a type that was bad for her health. </p><p>     “Hmmm, I need to get you a drink. Though I don’t think you need one.” She thought about the statement and the more she thought, the more she felt like he was trying to give her control of the situation. A peace offering. She also vaguely thought she might have been looking like absolute shit and smelling like her vice, alcohol. She looked at her clothes and sniffed herself covertly. But not covertly enough. </p><p>     “Don’t do that. I didn’t say that to make you feel uncomfortable.” Jessica had met guys who liked to talk themselves up, charm her, flatter her, to get in her pants. This dark-haired man was the most curious of them with a gentle hand on hers and a steady voice. He only tried to be nice, she wasn’t used to nice. Especially when nice looked like an apologetic smile strained by anxiousness. </p><p>     “I’m not uncomfortable.” It might have sounded like denial but it wasn’t. She felt comfortable with this man who had red-tinted hair, not a redhead, not jet black either. Maybe she was a little concerned because he seemed like an actual decent human being and she usually didn’t mess with decency in a bang. She never felt the need to form a connection. But he wasn’t usual, this wasn’t even her usual bar. </p><p>      “So what’s your name stranger?” His smirk faltered as his brows furrowed before it returned as if nothing happened. He’d taken back his hand and took a sip of the liquor the bartender left, probably beer, maybe something else. The booze was almost as red as his glasses and she might’ve mistaken that he was the devil drinking blood with how handsome he looked in the light of dusk. He was in a suit after all. And everyone knows how the devil takes care of his business. </p><p>     “Matt, Murdock. How about you, whiskey lover?” She smiled at that. </p><p>     “Well, Murdick, I am Jessica Jones. Feel free to call me Asshole, It’s all people call me anymore.” He nearly choked on his drink trying to keep from laughing. She patted his back. </p><p>     “Shit, you okay?” He nodded and waved her off before composing himself. </p><p>     “Well, I’ll only call you Asshole if you call me Murdick.”</p><p>     “To be honest I couldn’t pass it up. I‘m sorry I’m not sorry.” </p><p>     They talked for hours after that. Matt was a lawyer, one of Jessica’s bane and greatest partners. She couldn’t say that she disliked this particular lawyer though. That was all she seemed to know about him besides the fact he was very catholic and very much an orphan. Oh, and he was Irish? The red tint to his hair made more sense then. </p><p>     Something to keep in mind is that they did not immediately hookup upon stumbling into his apartment, in fact, they sat on his sofa and chatted. He made her Swiss miss that he had stocked for whatever reason while he wouldn’t touch the stuff, he said “It tastes like chemicals and artificial sweeteners to me”, and left it at that. It was only after she had polished her hot chocolate off when he rested a palm on her thigh that they kissed. He tasted like electricity and blood, and the kiss rapidly became her only focus. The stolen breaths, bitten lips, all of it, they were beautiful in their intensity. </p><p>     She had pulled away abruptly, his hair mussed and eyelids fluttering. “You won’t regret this?” Strangely she was asking this question when she knew the answer, yes, it was always yes. Until it wasn’t. </p><p>     “No, never.” She was chilled by how good those words felt to hear. The newly ignited excitement she would never admit to pushed her to sit him back on the weathered leather of the couch, his cheeks flushed with arousal and alcohol. She wished she knew which one was affecting him more. </p><p>     She ripped his blazer off with her bare hands and deposited the shreds into the air to float to the ground beside them. He didn’t bat an eye at her show of strength and she didn’t know if that was good or bad, didn’t care. The only thing she wanted or cared about right then was to know Matt inside and out and that started with letting him in, literally. So she opened his pants and pulled down his boxers to let his length free. </p><p>     He was stiff in her hand and her grip enclosed his width but not entirely. An experimental tug brought out a muffled groan. She dragged her hand down the velvety flesh a few times before it didn’t feel like enough to sate even a flick of the burning in her belly. They’d stripped off then slow and steady, kissing in between struggling with the cloth binding them. Her pants had a brand new hole in the leg of them. </p><p>     Because there wasn’t room on the sofa she folded her legs to encompass his hips. Bracing herself she positioned him at her entrance, she stayed there before Matt held her hips in a bruising grip seemingly fighting internally. She placed an open-mouthed kiss on his collar. He held on tighter then and he surged to fill her. It felt like she was being split at the seams, it was too much, not enough. </p><p>     He huffed and puffed with the effort it took to stay still while Jessica gasped with the stretch he brought to her. Her nerves were bouncing off the walls, her body jolting with any single shift. He was so thick within her that she couldn’t cope, it was like she’d become entirely useless. Once the film had fallen from her mind she rocked into him. His moan was breathy while she couldn’t even let out a sound because he hit that spot inside her so perfectly. She did it again and her vision was filled with stars. Her pace was slow, and she ground on him more than anything, but that didn’t stop Matt from whimpering and groaning under her. And if that wasn’t a confidence booster, she would never drink shitty Swiss miss again. Spoiler alert, she wouldn’t give shit up, ever, he got her hooked there. </p><p>      As she groaned and grinded, Matt sliding his hands up and down her sides, caressing her. She brought herself up to slam back down on him, the way he had practically mewled had her slicker than before. He was adorable with the way his mouth gaped, sweat sheening on his chest. She raked her fingers down his chest before landing her hands on his abdomen for leverage. Then she was sliding herself up and down his shaft slower than she ever had with anyone. His length disappeared to knock into a place that hurt in the best way. Her legs burned and her ankles ached as she rode him, pressing kisses to his face from time to time. </p><p>      It felt great until she realized something, she was stuck. She’d gotten to the point where she was almost there but that was it, she just couldn’t get any higher on that mountain hike to a climax. She would never admit that it made her beg to find release, her legs too much like jello to get her there. Matt ran a hand through her hair then as her eyes teared up with anxiety, pulling her down to nuzzle at her face. Nuzzle is the only way to express his action because it was so out of place in any bedroom she’d been in. </p><p>      Jessica was thrown for a loop when Matt flipped their positions and suddenly she was on her back with him between her legs. To top it off he withdrew almost entirely from her before slamming back in and went about absolutely pounding the shit out of her. She held onto him for dear life as she murmured a litany of “yes”. Her voice may have been too annoying because he caught her face and made her stare into crystal blue eyes by holding her jaw in a firm grip. She would have thought he was about to do something to hurt her if not for the kiss that was placed on her lips and the tongue that made its way into her mouth. She sucked on it and moaned around the taste of metal, the action causing Matt to quicken in his efforts, nearly making her fall off the couch’s edge. </p><p>     She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move under the onslaught that seemed to unravel her piece by piece. She was close, so close to that edge, to the fall, that she could have cried when Matt stopped kissing her long enough to nip at her throat with his teeth. And maybe that was what had her coming, or it could have been the thought of the bruises that arise from his grip on her hip, the nails sinking into her flesh. Her mind was too stuffed with cotton from one of the most intense sensations she’d felt besides pain to differentiate. She preferred this to pain, preferred it to a lot of things. The aftershocks wracked her body like lightning had struck her, a stream of broken moans falling from her when Matt started to search for his release. He looked wild, a beast, a devil ready to take her soul after claiming her snatch, painting it with himself like a painter would a church. She bit her lip as she brought her hands to cup his face, stubble rubbing her palms raw. “It’s alright.” That was the last thing she could say to him before his thrusts faltered and he poured himself into her, her oversensitive body jolting as he slammed into her once more, laying within her at rest. He laid over her chest, running his fingers through her hair, loving every minute of it. She loved it too, more than she cared to.</p><p>     When she felt him harden within her in the middle of their languid exploration, she simply said “bedroom” and he was lifting her and taking her to bed. Maybe this encounter would be a mistake in the morning but for the night he was hers, and she was his, it didn’t matter how romantic or unromantic it was. It would be a mistake, but never would it morph into regret. </p><p>     And don’t you know, never is forever. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So uh.... Kudos, Comment, Subscribe?</p><p>I only figured out the night after that Swiss mix was actually Swiss miss, I’m upset because that’s what it was originally. ;-;</p></blockquote></div></div>
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